


the timing's poor

by orphan_account



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Octo Expansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 09:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Absences don't go unnoticed even in lifestyles as busy as theirs. Rider's is no exception for someone like Tri.





	the timing's poor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trislosher (awkwardcarmine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardcarmine/gifts).



Three, four, five, and then six. Six full days passed without a word without a sound from the other inkling he spent most of his time with. It was awful uncharacteristic of him too, to disappear without a trace or at least some sort of notice about where he had gone. Like, even when Tri arrived late to practice, he had his own captain chew him out in addition to the other man. For someone not a part of orange team, he sure was a punctual individual, keeping records and reminders. At first, he speculated he was sick, but then wouldn’t he tell him that?

Of course, it seemed not too big of a deal, Rider being Rider and stubborn on not showing a hint of his flaws. His stubbornness was endearing at times, but this was not one of those times. Tri grew worried with each unanswered, unread text message and shakes of the head when asking other people of his whereabouts. First, he went to Mask, then Skull, then finally anyone he could get his hands on. There was intent on asking blue team since they were close to him, yet they seemed to have disappeared too. He couldn’t reach out to the rest of the other man’s team either, just as elusive as he was it seemed.

Regardless, all the answers turned up nothing that placated his desire of knowing, so he took the matter into his own hands, and that meant unceremoniously breaking into the inkling’s apartment with some shitty lockpick tools he bought along the way. Not his first choice, he thought about climbing up the fire escape and going through the window. Actually, that ended up being his final solution since the shitty tools broke in the lock itself.

So, there he was, prying off the screen frame, setting it onto the iron balcony, and sliding up the window pane. Fortunately, for him the window was already a bit cracked open. He placed the thought of needing to replace the lock when Rider got back in the back of his head as he stepped through the opening.

The window led directly into the man’s bedroom, lights off and temperature chilled from the breeze outside. He took a quick look around, noticing how, while messy, the room appeared unlived in. Tri had his occasional trips to the apartment before through unconventional means, this time no different, though everything seemed, off. Very, very off. Wrong almost.

Tri ran his hands across the various surfaces in the room as he made his way inwards.  
Messy as the bedsheets were and unkempt his desk was with papers, there was no life, no nothing. If Rider was sick, the place would at least have some signs of recent activity and most importantly he would be here. Even with the obvious signs that someone had been here, none of it felt recent if that made any sense, or if that made any sense for him to make a judgement.

Standing over a nightstand, he furrowed his brow and picked up one of the framed photographs that sat on it. He studied it, looking at the individuals in the photo that he could only conclude were his family who were beaming and he too. For a moment the image brought him some warm feeling, seeing the other looking happy. A much missed and welcomed feeling compared to the panic nipping the edges of his day to day life. Setting it down and preparing to go through more of inkling’s belongings, a muffled meow set dread back into him. Oh, god.

Dropping the next photograph he held, Tri frantically pushed open the door of the bedroom, practically slamming it wide open and looked back and forth for the source of the sound. Echo of the door hitting the wall reverberated in the otherwise darkened apartment, and he darted around to see if there was a nearby light. There wasn’t any nearby, but he made do anyways, calling out the name of the cat they both took care of.

He looked up and down every crevice, every corner, of each room until he tracked his way back to the bedroom by the faint trail of more meows.

On the bed, was the cat. He sighed and watched as the animal paced around tirelessly on the covers as if it were searching for something. Even with the language barrier between them, he knew they both shared the same sentiment. They missed him.

With one drawn out sigh, Tri dragged his feet across the floor towards the bed, sitting down on the edge and reaching a hand out to pet their cat. He sighed again, tired from the fact that his worst fears were confirmed within the matter of a few seconds. There was a part of him that wanted to do, something at least to get the pressure off his chest but he stared at the cat, now quiet thanks to his touch. A weak smile graced his face.

“Let’s get you something to eat, alright? You must be starving,” he said, a little choked. Standing up and taking one last glance at the photographs, he made his way to the kitchen cabinets.

Then, time passed on even further, the six days turned into two weeks, then two weeks turned into a month. By then, he had the front lock fixed and a spare key made so he could visit ever so often to check on their cat. Still, even with that period of time Rider showed no signs of reappearing, and hope seemed lost that he ever would. Tri texted him a few more times about how the door required the new key conveniently hidden behind the apartment number plate, and how he accidentally broke a photo frame but he got it fixed. Again, no response and by that time he didn’t expect one, just at least a way to stay connected so to speak.

Mask worried, so does the rest of his team and friends. Tri waved it off as sleeping late due to outstanding, not worrying however, circumstances. They knew he was lying and honestly, he couldn’t believe a word he said either. Performance faltered until his captain told him to take a break from playing to catch up on his health as if he didn’t stay up until 3AM playing games. No use back talking his leader, so he obliged.

It was not easy though, tossing and turning in his own bed. On some nights he made the excuse of keeping their cat company to sleep in Rider’s, using a spare jacket of his as an additional blanket. Not the first time, and definitely not the last. At least it was something that grounded him enough to fall asleep. How long has it been since he slept peacefully at his own place? He doesn’t know and does not want to know.

Eventually, it was his apartment that went uninhabited instead of the other’s. Until news broke of a giant statue rising out of the nearby ocean did he pay attention to what happened around him. Tri jolted up out of a haze one night to the sound of porcelain shattering on the floor followed by a swear. He pushed himself off the bed with haste and rushed into the kitchen.

He stumbled on a few things left and right in the dark, but eventually he got there, and saw. On the tile floor crouched Rider, picking up pieces of the broken dishware with shaky hands. His hands were stained yellow-green from presumably his blood. He didn’t look up when Tri approached, only sighed and dropped the few pieces he did have on his palms in defeat. Tattered. Exhausted. They could hear their cat calling out for them both in the dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow-up by my friend [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18144800) check it out  
> And lovely [fan art](https://twitter.com/CQ_80/status/1107338591980666882?s=20) holy shit


End file.
